


Young man, you are not a fish!

by elizainlove



Category: Ghosts (TV 2019)
Genre: Best Friends, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gen, M/M, you know how they all are
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:49:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29665461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elizainlove/pseuds/elizainlove
Summary: Button house gets a new ghost."Why is his face doing that? Close your mouth you heathen. Young man, you are not a fish!"Taking deep breaths Charlie averted his eyes, looking only at the oddest assortment of shoes and shins he’d ever seen. He was careful not to look up at those speaking."How be you knowings that?"
Relationships: The Captain (Ghosts TV 2019) & Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	Young man, you are not a fish!

**Author's Note:**

> My first Ghosts fic! I put Cap with someone new because I love the group’s dynamic as it is. Okay actually it’s more the beginnings of something with these two. It’s hinting more than anything else but I suppose I might write more later- yet to decide! I have a Thomas Barrow / Jimmy Kent fic in the works i’ve been neglecting...oops  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy :)

There was a whitish smog everywhere, it pressed against his blinking eyes and curled lazily around his body. When Charlie moved his arm to bring his hand close to his face, the smog swirled around it, dragging gently like he was moving it through a thin veil of water. He blinked again, an incredibly faint outline of paler than usual flesh materialised before him, but his fingers seemed much further from his nose than their few inches. What on earth was happening? One moment Charlie had been wandering around an old house, sipping cheap prosecco, and pretending to listen as his cousin groaned on about how historically accurate his wedding would be, the next he was here. In this...smoke? But that wasn’t quite right, it didn't smell like smoke. It didn’t smell of anything much. Maybe his ex’s cologne? How weird.

Charlie strained his ears. Maybe he was having some sort of stroke. But weren’t you meant to smell burned toast? Nethaniels cologne smelled of cedar not bloody toast. There were definite voices starting to emerge from somewhere. They sounded like they were at the far end of a very, very long tunnel. Oh god if he were heading for ‘the light’ he’d just have to turn around again wouldn’t he? He wasn’t even thirty-six yet. That was not happening. He was just having an allergic reaction to dust or something and being very dramatic. Yes, that would be it.

The voices were getting closer. There were too many of them. There had only been the four of them just moments ago, so where had all these others suddenly sprung from? Medics, maybe? Charlie searched his body mentally and physically, coming up with nothing. He wasn’t hurt. 

The voices started to sharpen, and there were shadows too, growing closer and more defined, one big mass of them. Charlie was inexplicably gripped by a sensation he could only parallel with that of clicking up the last few rungs before a sudden and steep drop on a rollercoaster. He screwed his eyes shut tight as all at once a rushing wind blew the smoke toward him, sending him hurtling toward the shadows and their increasing volume.

"oh here we go - I can't stand this bit. They always whine. Just like when I blocked that child care bill-"

Charlie creaked open an eye and gave a small gasp "What!?!"

"There he goes, interrupting. Excuse me I was talking. I demand ooorder"

"No, No...what?" Charlie stared dumbfounded, up at the crowd he was surrounded by. Each person stranger than the last.

"Now really, why don't we all settle down, ey? Then I’m sure we could all be the best of chums"

"but he interrupted a perfectly good story about my magnum opus-"

Realising he was laying on his back, Charlie pushed himself to his elbows, but just as soon lurched sideways to the floor again. The movement accompanied by the strangest, wrenching jolting, not unlike when you fall in a dream only to wake up right before you crash into the ground. 

In confusion he looked back to the spot he had just vacated, expecting to see a medic's hand or something but "WHAT!!?" 

Charlie gaped for air, gasping and scrabbling backwards as far as the encircling group would allow.

"Why is his face doing that? Close your mouth you heathen. Young man, you are not a fish!"

Taking deep breaths Charlie averted his eyes, looking only at the oddest assortment of shoes and shins he’d ever seen. He was careful not to look up at those speaking.

"How be you knowings that?"

"Uh-hu yeah, 'e could be fishman. Roamed land an water in my day"

"oooooh did they? How exciting!"

"That's quite enough! We have a new soldier to induct. Now will you stop gallivanting off on ridiculous stories about fishmen"

"But true! Dey in da water then they not! Fishman!"

"Alrighty everyone!" The squat scout leader raised his hand, then placed a finger to his moustache "fingers on lips everyone!" he waited expectantly as each of the odd group placed a solitary finger to their lips, most grumbling. "thank you, good work everyone"

Charlie could only stare up confusedly from his sprawling position on the wooden floor. The daylight merrily streamed through the window above him, lighting up each face in the semicircle when they turned to look directly at him, all with fingers glued to their mouths.

"What...?" Charlie whispered. He slowly brought his eyes to his left once again, seeing his mirror image on the floor next to him. Except this figure couldn’t be him? It was very clearly dead, with wide glassy eyes and a trickle of blood running from the corner of it’s mouth and into it’s ear. He was called back from his ever-growing horror by the jovial man in shorts speaking to him kindly.

"It's a bit of a shock to the systeroonie, I know. But you'll soon be back to your old self again. Oh uh, in spirit anyway" he gave a chuckle which was mirrored by a few of the others in the group, the sound muffled by still present fingers and sealed lips. 

Charlie was about to say, what?!? For the fifth time in as many minutes, when the soldier of the group raised a hand. A hand holding a thick, slightly aggressive looking cane…

"Yes Captain?" The little man altered his attention’s focus.

The 'captain' removed his index finger but did not lower his hand, posture poker-straight he levelled Charlie with a no-nonsense look "we are sorry to be the bearer of bad news, old chap, but there’s no point in beating around the proverbial bush. The fact is you're dead. And so are we" 

"good of you to mention that" the chuckle that followed the scoutmaster’s words no less awkward than before "what a thing to forget to mention! Silly goose"

Pointing his stick in Charlie’s general direction the captain continued “Yes well, now we have that formality out of the way, I think it is about time you stand up and face what’s coming, soldier” 

Charlie's mouth dropped open as he struggled to find replying words. He made the mistake of glancing sideways again and felt his stomach give a heave. Quickly averting his gaze back up to the group of people surrounding him, he caught the austere eye of the old bat kitted out in some sort of period drama dress. She had a hand raised and was looking angrily at Charlie's still gaping mouth. He snapped it shut and looked away, confusion and panic clawing at his insides. 

"This has to be a joke right?" Charlie’s own voice sounded equal parts husky and desperate, carrying none of his usual self-assuredness. 

Before any of the oddballs could answer, the door swung inwards and a woman walked through, distractedly tossing out a "you haven't seen my notebook have you? The bride's mother-in-law for the next wedding is being a nightmare and" The newest room’s occupant didn’t glance their way but set about searching the other side of the room.

"Alison" the Captain gave a little cough.

Pulling up a few sofa cushions she continued "I really have to find a polite way to"

"oh, Alison we've got a new member of the family!" trilled a woman in yet another period dress, purple this time.

"tell her to fu-" The woman, Alison, had finally stopped her search for her elusive notebook and turned, hands on hips, to face the others in the room. She looked at their faces warily "what are you all doing? You never listen to Pat when he says 'fingers on lips'?"

"There is to be a great deal of woe to follow, dear lady. Look away now and spare your beautiful eyes" the skinny man in tights spoke with a poetic lilt that Charlie thought wholly inappropriate.

"look. Can we just stop whatever this is? It is not bloody funny" he started, making a move to finally get up off the wooden floor, but before he'd done more than hoist himself into a sitting position, the Alison woman let out a small scream.

"oh my god! MIIIKE" she rushed forwards, flapping at the group of misfits to get them to move, then knelt by the fake, dead-looking Charlie "there has to be something we can do!? MIKE!" she looked at charlie directly for the first time "no, no, you can't be here this can't be happening" she felt around the neck of the look-alike, groaning when she apparently couldn't find a pulse "okay, okay... Pat" she twisted around to look up at the little man "do you know CPR?" without waiting for an answer she scrabbled at the chest of the figure lying prone before her "MIIIIKE"

The cavernous room was once again full of voices, each trying to talk over the other. Pat was leaning down to Alison and gabbling away rather excitedly, but he might as well have not bothered, the crowd drowned him out completely.

Looking between them all, Charlie felt reality crash into him, muffling the voices. His cousin was a dullard and not a prankster. This situation was unfunny and far too elaborate. However impossible it seemed, this was really happening. This was no joke. 

The door to the room crashed open and a very out of breath man ran in, skidding to a stop and nearly toppling backwards as he attempted not to run into what was in essence, a crime scene.

The man started speaking too, adding to the din, either unaware or uncaring that not a single word could be heard. But the edges of Charlie's world were vignetting, the blackness seeping quickly in from the edges "fuck" was all he managed before he passed out.

..... 

"Tootsie, Tootsie, Tootsie" Julian pointed his thumb at Charlie as he stood on the shabby carpet of the living room, attempting charades, a game he traditionally hated.

"wills you stop sayin, Tootsie. You stills never said what a tootsie be "Mary spoke up from her perch at the end of the sofa "i thinks it looks like you be milkin a cow"

Charlie let his arms drop "oh come on guys, it's not that hard'' he held up the simbols for a book and a film. Then went back to trying to mime The Wizard Of Oz.

It had been just over one month since his death. One very long and utterly bewildering month. Charlie wasn't quite sure he'd come to terms with the whole ‘being a ghost thing’ yet, but what he had done was lock it in a little box for another day. A tactic which was serving him well so far.

"how is this not tootsie?" Julian squinted at the man kneeling on the floor before him.

"Maybe try to mime it a different way, mate?" Pat's look of undying enthusiasm was sweet but Charlie couldn’t help wondering if the man ever let loose and had a good yell "I always find it useful to come at a problem from a different direction" 

Sighing Charlie stopped trying to mimic munchkins, a witch, a tin man, a lion, a scarecrow, and a little girl skipping merrily. Standing with his hands on hips he took a breath in, unconsciously puffing out his chest, while thinking hard. The room was silent aside from The Captain’s little throat clear, each ghost staring at him impatiently. 

Charlie’s face split into a grin when just moments later the perfect idea popped into his head. Walking forwards to the small crowd he said "okay this is mainly for Pat and Julian, unless Alison has been educating you all, that is" 

He grabbed the Captain's hand and dragged him into a standing position "though I feel like you'll get it too" he gave the slightly panicked man's hand a squeeze and resisted a wink. Once they were back on the carpet dubbed ‘the stage’, charlie started to skip on the spot, swinging the Captain's hand "come on you've got to skip with me"

Fanny’s scoff of "really" wasn't quite covered by the Captain's spluttering and coughing. Charlie was quite sure if ghosts could blush, the man would be more tomato than soldier.

Then Julian was on his feet pointing "friends of Dorothy!"

"Julian! Will you please!" a shocked Pat gasped in a high pitched voice Charlie had yet to hear. It made him halt his skipping and burst into laughter. 

"I beg your pardon, Sir!!" in an odd move the Captain gripped Charlie's hand tighter "how dare you. I ought to thrash your bottom" 

Grinning Julian continued, shooting his cuffs and sticking a characteristic tongue out the side of his mouth "The Wizard Of Oz"

"YES thank you! Finally!" Charlie laughed, giving the Captain's hand another squeeze before letting go.

"oh, right well” The Captain cleared his throat, raising his jaw as though his collar were bothering him “Yes. I'm just going to, uh, oh was that Alison I heard? Katharine let us go and see what she wants"

Charlie grinned at The Captain’s quickly retreating back, that man was utterly adorable. There might just be a silver lining to all this.


End file.
